Creatures in the night
by sharkinterviewee
Summary: Gamora shifts mid sprint, and Peter can't help but admire her more animalistic form. Black fur and powerful haunches, quick enough to be a monster slipping through the shadows, exactly what nightmares are made of. The embodiment of everything that scared him about the woods as a child, before he became a monster in the night himself. [Established vampire!Peter x werewolf!Gamora]


**AN: Inspired by prompt: A looks like stereotypical werewolf, but is the vampire and B looks like a stereotypical vampire but is the werewolf **

**So I mean, yeah. Silent assassin you'd kinda think would lend it to a vampire character (especially since sleek is pretty much assassin descriptor), and Peter Quill is pretty much the embodiment of a puppy dog soul mixed with a ray of sunshine given a rough childhood (and is it just me or are male characters more often than not the werewolves), so here I present to you a Vampire Peter and Werewolf Gamora fic.  
**

**This is just a cracky fun fic, established relationship starmora, featuring our couple going on a night hunt in some alien forest and lots of playful tackling, kissing, and well, vampire/werewolf romance for no good reason.**

* * *

It... well... it just happened. Them. It really was inevitable, them getting together as a couple. Only a matter of time. And when they had sex... well, things got a little feral when they fucked. They both had very sharp teeth. Gamora was a werewolf, which didn't even have a reputation of neck biting like _some _species (cough cough vampires), but she bit his neck so much during sex. Just closed her teeth and squeezed his skin between her incisors, shaking her head with his delicate skin between her sharp canine teeth. Okay, well, not that delicate. His skin was much harder to puncture than a normal Terrans would be, but still.

* * *

She always said it was a wolf thing. That was her excuse, anyway. Some primal and feral thing. Part of Peter thought that it was just a Gamora thing. Not like he like minded it. He definitely didn't mind it when she had tackled him to the floor and lined her teeth up with his jugular, making Peter mewl and his hips buck.

* * *

She always said that she liked how she could play rough with him. The whole tackling to the floor bit wasn't exactly uncommon. She didn't have to hold back her strength. Which was definitely a plus when it came to sex, at least they both seemed to think so. Peter had never actually been with another Terran, but he would've outmatched any human partner physically by a long shot too. Of their previous sexual partners, they always had to be sorta holding back. Even if they were having sex with someone who's species was much stronger than theirs, things kinda got a bit mixed up when you throw in supernatural powers. So yeah, they were good together in more ways than one. Able to let go and just have _fun_.

* * *

He had barely made it through the door when a blurry figure came dashing forward, charging out of nowhere, effectively body slamming into him. It was just a blur of movement out of the corner of his eye before the figure slammed into him, tackling him to the ground.

The force almost knocked the air from his lungs, or maybe it was the full bodied figure landing right on top of him, pinning him down.

But he wasn't complaining. He was more or less used to this treatment. She did this sometimes. Gamora barreling into him right when he stepped through the door, tackling him down and landing on top of him, all playful energy, kissing and rubbing against him, nipping him a bit too.

Still, he groaned a bit at the smack of his head on the hardwood floor, the mop of black red hair spread out on his chest as she nuzzled him, rubbing her face in the crook of his neck.

"Someone's got some energy," Peter said with a note of amused exasperation, which yeah, understatement of the year.

Gamora hummed, her teeth catching on his earlobe. "I missed you."

* * *

The night was calm, light from the stars filtering through the trees, this particular stretch of the woods particularly familiar. They were supposed to be hunting.

But suddenly Peter realized Gamora had disappeared, and had been gone for at least a few minutes. He took note of his surroundings, how he was completely alone, unsure of how long that had been the case. Everything was quiet.

He had good hearing too. If Gamora was off hunting, he should have been able to hear a rustle of leaves or creaks of sticks in the distance, a hint of movement brushing past the blades of grass, the padding of quick feet or paws- anything. But there was nothing. Just an eerie silence.

And he knew exactly what was coming.

Peter stood up a little bit straighter, trying to concentrate, to focus all of his senses, cause he knew this was the calm before the storm, and he was about to be attacked.

She always waited until he _noticed _something was up, then he was fair game.

Then, to his left, there was a whisper of brushle and leaves, but there was no sign of it being anything more than the wind. He whipped his head back from the momentary distraction, and that was right when something (or rather _someone_) came crashing into him, and took him to the ground, _hard_.

Peter groaned, his eyes scrunched tight in pain. When he opened them, Gamora was of course on top of him, grinning down at him, panting, her eyes bright and exhilarated. Her teeth even looked sharper too. Her lips curled, exposing more of her glinting teeth, looking much more threatening than she probably meant it to. Maybe it's just cause she was in hunting mode, and grinning, but there was something undeniably predatory about her right now. And he's the prey.

"How are you so damn _quiet_?" Peter bemoaned, and her grin widened.

"Practice," she said simply, but in a way that was unmistakingly bragging. She had a whole air of superiority around her that she honestly deserved, because even after all this time, it was no trouble at all for her to sneak up on him.

The thing is- even when she's in full on wolf mode and fucking huge and weighs like four times as much as he does, she's still silent as hell even though when she's going all beast those paws should be thudding on the ground.

He guessed he should be glad that she went easy on him this time- on nights of the full moon and new moon she didn't really have a choice on whether to go beast mode or not, but the rest of the time it was completely voluntary. Sometimes when they went on night hunts like these she didn't even change at all, liking the feeling of stretching her legs and running through the woods on feet instead of paws. She didn't even need to go full wolf to be a great hunter. And sometimes she did shift just for the fun of it on these little trips of theirs, so he could've been taken down by a Gamora who was packing a lot more momentum than the green skinned girl who just tackled him to the ground.

"You're not supposed to be hunting _me_," Peter whined, though he knew she was just playing. She actually could be dangerous when she wanted to be. (Seriously, when they first met, they kinda sorta got into a fight and tried to take each other out- and let's just say that fight wasn't shaping to turn out very good for him if they hadn't been interrupted).

"I found a den of Elentis," she said, changing the subject, most likely thinking all would be forgiven with this new information.

And she was right.

Elentis were some delicious little critters that they both happened to favor- hey, some alien creatures had delicious tasting blood and nasty tasting meat, or yummy meat and disgusting blood, so their hunting tastes didn't always quite align. As a blood sucker, Peter favored them for their rich taste and all the nutrients they had running through them (plus, he always thought it was fun coming away with a mouth stained bluish-purple from their odd coloring). Gamora said their meat was sweet and tart, kinda melt in your mouth-y, and reminded her of some delicacies back on her home planet (he took her word for it).

Peter licked his lips. "Well, why didn't you just start with that?"

* * *

She shifts as they're running to the cache of food she discovered, and Peter almost ran into a tree because he was too caught up in admiring her more animalistic form. God, she was so cool. Black fur and powerful haunches, huge and menacing, quick enough to be a monster slipping through the shadows, just a figment of the imagination out of the corner of your eye. Exactly what nightmares were made of. The embodiment of everything that scared him about the woods as a child, before he became a monster in the dark himself. Even though he was a danger in his own right, catching a glimpse of her eyes glinting in the moonlight always sent a shiver down his spine, accessing some deep human instinct, a primal fear that was encoded into his DNA, one that screamed danger and run. That a predator was lurking.

It had been many years since Peter was technically human, but something about dangerous eyes gleaming in the darkness activated some long forgotten survival instinct from back when Terrans were animals of prey, back when he was strictly Terran.

He smiled, running even harder, faster now, determined to not let her beat him. Even though he didn't actually know where they were going, so he technically had to follow her.

Not to brag, but he was pretty fast too.

He caught up to her side, giving her a tap tap on her shoulder blades (where her front legs met her spine, he didn't know the actual proper term for wolf anatomy). She shot him a look, glare actually, shouldering him out of her path.

Peter laughed, backing off for a mere moment or two, but soon enough he was at her side again (her left side this time) and tapping on her flank. She wasn't so gracious in her response, though.

Gamora snapped at him, baring her teeth, turning on him, rearing up on her hind legs to change course to directly behind her and just charging.

She just missed him, mouth agape, and Peter slid down in the dirt to dodge her powerful jaws, quickly righting himself on his feet to face her again, couldn't really afford to be taken off guard by her this time.

She paced a few yards in front of him and Peter narrowed his eyes, seeing an opportunity and took it. He slammed into her with all his might, focusing on a full body blow, sending Gamora flying with a sharp yelp. This time, her body did make a sound, landing with a thud. She shook her head, fur bristling, scrambling onto all four paws again and growling something deep and menacing before launching herself right at him, taking him head on.

Peter landed with possibly an even louder thud, which made sense considering he landed on his back with a werewolf on top of him, and he barely had enough time to stop her razor sharp teeth from shredding his face.

He grunted, the strain of having to hold her snapping jaw open with his bare hands was a lot. He was only able to stop them, keep them at bay, couldn't pry them apart, or even push them back from hovering just a couple inches above his face. She had a powerful jaw. If it wasn't for vampire strength, he'd be missing his head right about now.

Gamora growled, her breath hot and sickly sweet exactly like a monster in a horror movie, fucking breathing on him and almost suffocating him with how thick and muggy it was all up in his face. It was getting harder and harder to hold her teeth apart as she increased the pressure. He was slowly losing ground, unable to combat the force of her jaws trying to shut, but it was the uncomfortably warm saliva dripping from her mouth and landing on him as her low pitched growl deepened that really did him in for.

"All right, I yield!" Peter shouted, still trying his best to pry her jaws apart, knowing better than to immediately drop his hands after surrendering.

She waited a second or two before pulling her head away from him, and Peter wiped off his wet hands on the grass before examining them and the grooves he had on them from holding her teeth (no broken skin, yay vampire powers).

She backed off of him, letting him up, and Peter made a show of dusting off his pants. When he looked back up at her, he couldn't help but laugh at the look she was giving him.

One that clearly said _I'm not sure that I wanna share food with you anymore._

When come on, total hypocrite. She got to have her fun tackling him out of nowhere just a couple minutes ago, and now she wanted to be all growly at him for being annoying and starting a play fight.

"Oh come on," Peter chuckled, kneeling down in front of her, wrapping an arm around her and scraggling a hand in her scruff. She was almost as tall as him in her wolf form, and much bigger, she was fucking huge.

Peter nuzzled into the underside of her neck, rubbing his face in the fluffy fur of her chest, practically burying himself in her coat, making those affectionate little whines in the back of his throat that he knew she especially appreciated when she was in this form. She didn't respond at first, staying frozen and stubborn, but eventually she tilted her head down, rubbing her chin on him (the top of his head, his back, his shoulders, returning his affectionate nuzzling).

* * *

Peter reached inside the den, dragging out the fat little things and cracking their necks for a swift death.

He tossed one to Gamora, which she caught in her hands.

"What, you don't wanna play catch?" He jokingly asked digging his teeth quite literally into the fresh kill, sucking out the still pumping life blood.

Gamora snorted, though not gonna lie, it was fun and majorly impressive when she was in wolf form and caught the snacks he was tossing her in her mouth. "Nope, just hungry now," she said, tearing the animal apart with her bare hands, ripping off huge chunks of flesh to devour before she really just buried her face in it too. It was easier to fill up in this form. Not as much mass or energy output.

Peter had drained three corpses, tossing them in a pile for her (_dried snacks_, she called them) when he looked back at her, taking a sharp breath in at the sight.

Okay, it was pretty weird, right? Her hair all wild, looking unmistakably feral, her lower face covered in the sticky purple blood as she tore into the carcass, scarfing down the raw meat that was still so warm and fresh, and it was hot as fuck.

It was weird he was turned on by that, right? Like that totally wasn't sexual at all, but holy fuck was it arousing.

"You're staring," she murmured, once she had noticed his eyes on her. She lowered her meal, pursing her lips, not necessarily concerned, but- curious, you could say. As to why.

"Yeah, you've got something-" he said, motioning to her whole lower face. Then, almost as if in a trance, he moved towards her, she was even more beautiful in the moonlight.

Her eyes widened in surprise once his intentions were clear, but she fully welcomed his kiss, her (mostly) finished off snack momentarily crushed between their chests before it was dropped to the forest floor, forgotten in the wake of his lips against hers.

Peter wrapped an arm around her, burying his free hand in her hair, pulling her body against his, actually moaning at her open mouth, his tongue snaking past her lips, running over her blood stained teeth, practically caressing her canines as he licked inside of her mouth, she tasted so good, she always tasted good, but her mouth soaked in blood was a world of its own, he kept pushing deeper, wanting more of it, more of her.

He always was a good kisser. And Gamora very much appreciated his more ravenous nature in this sense. She had already wrapped her hands around the back of his neck before she remembered they were still wet, and now he was probably stained purple, but Peter didn't seem to mind. Far from it, practically growling as he cinched his arm around her waist even tighter, sending a spark of arousal shooting down her spine.

When their lips finally parted, he didn't go far. He brushed his tongue over her bottom lip, an appreciative moan as he more or less teased her. He pulled back even further, and her eyes fluttered open as Peter licked her cheek. He licked her face again and again, and she honest to god giggled when she realized he was licking the blood off of her. Honestly just lapping at her face. She was usually the one who did the licking in the relationship (well, licking skin as an affectionate thing, Peter was awful good at licking other parts of her if you know what I mean).

At first she thought he was kinda more or less doing it as a joke, but then he moved over to her chin, along her jaw, laving her cheek, and didn't stop until he was done with his thorough cleaning of her face and she didn't have a speck on her.

"You're such a weirdo," she laughed pulling him in for another kiss.

Peter only hummed in response, his smile against her lips answer enough.

* * *

**AN: Please be nice. Most of this was written a couple hours ago, so sorry if it's not up to snuff. This is just a crack fic anyway, because apparently I can't stop writing fucky things.**  
**PS. I looked it up, and TVtropes says it's not just me in the whole guys being werewolves thing in fiction, that's like a bonafide cultural trend**


End file.
